


Breath of Fresh Air

by queen_abrin



Series: AFTG Bingo 2018 [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Artist AU, Artist Jeremy, Jean lives in Paris and he's a snob, Jeremy is always cold, Journalist AU, Journalist Jean, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 03:30:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16508540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_abrin/pseuds/queen_abrin
Summary: Jean was decently high on the newspaper hierarchy, so the fact that he had to go out of Paris to cover for Kevin’s ass while he visited Thea in England was mildly insulting.My second contribution to the AFTG Bingo 2018 for the Jerejean card square "One of them is an artist"





	Breath of Fresh Air

**Author's Note:**

> hi kitty girls! this one isn't too great either but yknow. Follow me on tumblr @storyalchemist or @c-innabar

Jean hated his job.

It’s nine in the morning and his day has already gone from not great to bad to awful. If he was lucky, the train would derail and his cat would piss on his shoes while he wasn’t there. His morning had started with his kettle not turning on to heat his water, so he had to leave the house without his coffee. The Metro station near his apartment had been closed off, so he had been forced to jog to the next closest station. He had at least bought himself a pastry on the way to work. The awful part had come when he was assigned a story on an artist. Jean Moreau, sports reporter and popular opinionist for Exy on the Libération newspaper. He’d be the laughingstock of the sports room.

He was decently high on the newspaper hierarchy, so the fact that he had to go out of Paris to cover for Kevin’s ass while he visited Thea in England was mildly insulting. Since Kevin usually covered the arts, Jeremy had to cover the arts too, which was why he was sitting on a train, hurtling away from Paris at 574 kilometres an hour.  
He was on his way to meet with Jeremy Knox, an up and coming artist which had been recently displayed in the Paris Museum of Modern Art. Jean hated artists. He knew it was hypocritical to say he disliked their snobbish, brooding attitudes, as he possessed that same attitude, but he did. He only had so much room in his life for brooding and Kevin and himself filled that up just fine. He also hated the stupid berets some of them wore, whether it be ironically or otherwise. And he was American as well. 

Yeugh.

He decided to turn his attention to other matters, pulling out a dog-eared copy of a novel he’d been reading.

He startled awake when the train stopped more suddenly than before. His book dropped onto the floor and as he sat up straight from picking it up he hit his head on the table.

He grumbled as he got off the train and grumbled his way into a cab and to his hotel’s street. He’d seen greenery all the way here but was still surprised by how green the city was. Many cobbled together buildings seemed to grow from small clumps of trees and flowers sprouted from the sidewalks. The contrast from the urbanity of Paris made the change more enjoyable 

It was pleasantly quaint until the cobbled sidewalks.

God, how Jean hated cobbled sidewalks. 

He made his way to the hotel's front door, duffel bag slung over a boulder, swearing every time his foot slid into a crevice or when he tripped over an uneven stone.

When he arrived, he checked in, got into his room, flopped on his bed, and napped, thankful he had not snapped his ankle.

When he woke up it was six and the sun was hit above the horizon line. He shot an email to the guy he was supposed to talk to.

From:jmoreau@hotmail.com  
To: jknox@hotmail.com  
Subject: Interview  
When can we talk and where?  
Jean Moreau

He shut his laptop and went downstairs for dinner. When he came back, his notification light was blinking. He clicked on the email in his inbox.

From: jknox@hotmail.com  
To: jmoreau@hotmail.com  
Subject: Interview Reply  
Hello Jean!  
Thank you for getting in touch with me! Kevin told me about the change. I know you don’t usually do art stuff but I hope you’ll find this a good experience. We can talk in a cafe I know? I don’t know if you want to see my work or not, but if so it’s not too far from my apartment. They have fresh macarons and they roast their own beans so the coffee comes out super good. How are you liking Malmaison? I know the roads can be tedious for the new arrival, but they make for a good workout!  
Regards,  
Jeremy

Dark eyebrows shot up in surprise at the rather long paragraph waiting for him.It was much more than he had been expecting. His lip quirked at the mention of the roads. At least he wasn’t the only one. He confirmed their plans and dressed for bed, turning in for an early night.

 

The next morning he got up and went for a jog. The air was crisper than he thought it would be in late spring, but it felt refreshing he dressed in a dark turtleneck and slacks. He found the cafe they had agreed on was walking distance. He was rather taken with the town’s picturesque parks and shopfronts, all faded pastel shades with wooden signs out front. He had heard the Sienne was nearby, a run there would be a must. He arrived at the small shop before he knew it and stepped inside, shrugging off his coat. He saw no one that matched the description he was given and took a seat by himself, ordering a latte. Knox was right, the coffee was superb.  
A few minutes later the door burst open in a flurry of movement. A short man wearing more outerwear than he could count shut the door behind him. A pair of lovely brown eyes peeked out from...was that three hats? The winter wear man waddled over.

“Jean Moreau?” A voice came from the seemingly sentient pile of clothing. 

Jean nodded, “I’m assuming you’re Jeremy Knox then.” A moment passed before the man spoke again, shedding layers of coat after jacket after hoodie. “Yeah, sorry. The chilly weather always gets me super bad and I don’t want to get a cold again.”

“It’s late spring.”

“Yeah, well, I’m from southern California, yknow,” He performed a hand motion Jean had only ever seen in a surfer dude movie Laila had made him see. Knox sat in front of him and quickly ordered a hot coffee. They sat in silence while his drink arrived, which Jean took to look at his subject. He had brown hair, except for the bleached tips he sported. There was a dusting of freckles on his face and he had a decidedly sharp jawline. Jean forced himself back onto the task at hand.

“Alright, so what do you want to talk about?” Jeremy’s attention turned on Jean so suddenly and his demeanor changed so suddenly he for a moment thought he had been replaced by a changeling. His mind went momentarily blank in the crossbeams of the other’s eyes.

“I apologize if I mess up every once in a while. I have not interviewed anyone about anything other than sports or Exy for a very long time.”

Jeremy nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, hey, no problem! I read your Exy stuff sometimes. I used to play but then I dropped out of college.”

Jean blinked. There was an unexpected heat on his face. “Thank you. I used to play too. Have you seen the World Cup games?”

They, to Jean's surprise, spent the next hour discussing the differences between the U.S. Exy team and the France team. They came to the conclusion that while the U.S. team had more exciting games from an average viewpoint, the French team was a marvel from a technical standpoint. 

Jean blinked as he spotted the clock on the wall. “Oh dear. We haven’t talked about your art at all. I’m terribly sorry. Would you be okay with meeting tomorrow? I promise we’ll actually talk about you then.” 

Jeremy nodded again, grinning. “Yeah man. Maybe we can have actual lunch then. There’s a really great sandwich shop down the street." They stood at the same time. While Jeremy began to put his closet back on, Jean paid for their drinks. 

“Oh, hey, you didn’t have to-”

“It’s fine.” Jean smiled slightly. “You’ll just pay for our sandwiches tomorrow.”

Jeremy grinned up at him. “Deal.”

They stepped outside together. Jeremy put out a hand to shake at the same time Jeremy put out a hand for a bro shake. They settled for an awkward handshake-chest bump that left Jeremy giggling and Jean smiling, thankful the weather was cold enough to be suspect for the heat in his face. 

“See you tomorrow.”


End file.
